A/N: Greetings and warm welcomes. Thank you for taking the time to stop in and read my story. I do hope you take the extra minute or two to leave a review. I'd love to hear what you think. Meanwhile, enjoy…

He had come to the conclusion that he really hated this room. He hated it almost as much as the kid sitting next to him. He glanced at Will Stronghold as the boy twiddled his thumbs and shifted restlessly in his seat.

Warren did his best not to fidget. He was so cold. So, very, very cold.

He had never been sprayed down with a fire extinguisher before and it was something that he was not keen on repeating. He couldn't generate enough power to warm himself back up to his normal temperature before Principle Powers had stuck them in this room.

And despite the fact that he was shaking beneath his leather jacket, his insides were on fire. He could feel the flames roaring within him, licking up his throat but finding the exit blocked.

A fine sheen of sweat coated his forehead and he hunched forward, his dark hair falling from behind his ears and curtaining his face as another shudder racked his frame.

Will saw the small movement from the corner of his eye and his brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey…are you ok?"

Warren glared, the fire trapped inside him igniting in his eyes.

"Back off."

The other boy put his hands up and shrugged, sitting back in his chair.

The pyro squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw and tensing his muscles as the heat inside him grew, building up and pressing painfully against his chest.

He needed to find a way to let it go. He needed to get out of this room.

His features twisted in a grimace and he masked his silent agony by leaning over and burying his face in his arms, feigning boredom.

Will darted his eyes over to the older boy and noticed his stiff shoulders, occasionally jerking as Warren tried to suppress the shivers that were becoming more and more pronounced. Despite the fact that Warren had attempted to burn him alive, he found himself worrying at the subtle signs of distress in his counterpart.

He was just so cold.

How could anyone be this cold?

He could feel Stronghold's gaze on him and he scowled at his lack of control before focusing again on the raging fire inside him. If he could just hold on a little longer…

A few minutes later and the door swished open. He didn't even wait for Principle Powers to tell them they were allowed to go. He shot out of the room like a bullet, sprinting out the front doors of the school and bounding down the steps until he reached an open but secluded area around the side of the building.

At last, he let himself go.

Flames burst forth from inside him, exploding around him and encircling him with the heat he so desperately craved yet wished to pour out of him so that the crushing inferno would die down.

His body trembled, haloed with fire, crackling and sparking, the roar of the blaze deafening. He stood, the air around him writhing and alive.

Exhaustion finally crept up on him as the adrenaline wore off and the need to release his caged power subsided.

Warren took a cursory look around before letting himself sink slowly to the ground. The flames, just a moment ago--awesome in their intensity--flickered out, leaving the pyrokinetic gasping quietly for air, his chest heaving from the exertion.

He resisted the urge to just lay down and fall asleep right there.

He had never been so tired.

He waited several seconds before standing cautiously, blinking several times to let the vertigo pass. He could hear the school bell ring and the sound of students rushing to the buses.

He wanted to go home, but remembered that he had left his bag. Principle Powers probably had it stashed somewhere in her office.

He frowned. His favorite book was in there.

Sighing, he trudged his way back up the steps and through the halls until he reached the Principle's office. Hesitating, he knocked on the door twice. He heard a muffled "come in" and stepped inside.

Powers raised an eyebrow as he stood in the doorway, arms crossed and still a bit shaky.

"Mr. Peace. I assume you're here for your belongings."

He jerked his head in the affirmative, glaring to the side.

The woman stood and opened a small cabinet, pulling out his worn backpack and handing it to him. She stared at him for a moment, studying his appearance carefully before he snatched his bag from her and slung it over his shoulder, preparing to leave.

"Mr. Peace."

He stopped, but he didn't move to face her, turning his head to look back at her over his shoulder, eyes questioning behind dark strands.

"I…apologize for any adverse affects that the Detention Room may have had on you. I never meant to cause you any discomfort."

He snorted. Discomfort was probably the worst word for what he had felt.

She seemed to pick up on his line of thinking and her eyes softened.

"Go home, Warren. Get some rest."

He bit back a sarcastic remark, too tired to put up his tough exterior. Instead, his shoulders slumped and he nodded, striding out the door with his head down, eyelids drooping with fatigue.

… … … … … … …

He dumped his backpack on the floor and kicked off his boots, hanging his jacket on the coat rack before heading to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and stared at the contents. He wasn't really hungry.

He grabbed a bottle of water and started back to the living room when an odd sensation prickled at the edge of his senses. His eyes watered and he scrunched up his nose as the tickle grew.

An explosive sneeze broke the silence in the house and he sniffed slightly, settling himself down on the couch. He didn't bother turning on the TV. He didn't watch it very often.

Warren sat for several long minutes before giving into the demands of his body and stretching out on the sofa, his head fuzzy with exhaustion.

He still felt cold. He pulled a blanket thrown over the back of the couch around him and shifted onto his side, eyes closing in a dreamless sleep.

… … … … … … … … …

The next day, his nose was stuffed and his throat was sore. He sniffled miserably as he sat at his usual lunch table, trying to focus on the book in front of him, but finding it difficult as once again, his eyes watered in anticipation for the upcoming--

Fcchtt!

He slapped his hand over his nose and mouth, effectively muffling the audible noise that would have garnered him some much unwanted attention.

A few tables away, Will Stronghold observed Warren for a moment before turning to Layla.

"He looks…different."

The redhead looked up from her lunch.

"Who?"

"Warren. There's something different about him today."

Layla followed his gaze and tilted her head as she took in the pyro across the room. They watched as he covered his mouth and sneezed. Realization dawned.

"He's sick," Layla stated in mild fascination.

Will frowned, "What?"

"Warren has a cold. See his eyes and his nose? They're kind of red and he keeps sniffing."

The brunette furrowed his brow in confusion.

"He was fine yesterday. And you'd think that with his power and all, he wouldn't get colds."

Layla shrugged. "Maybe he walked home in the rain or slept with his window open or…" She trailed off, eyes widening.

Will watched her.

"Or what?"

The redhead looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and reproach.

"Or maybe someone sprayed him with a fire extinguisher."

Will felt his heart sink before looking toward Warren again, watching as the older boy pressed a tissue to his nose before standing up and leaving the cafeteria.

"Aw, damn…"

"Language, Will."

"Sorry. But--how did that happen?"

Layla rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention in class once in a while, would you? When a body goes from hot to cold very quickly, a common result is a cold, especially if the temperatures are extreme."

Will seemed to deflate in his seat and stared at his hands dejectedly.

Layla put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, Will. You did what you had to."

But he wasn't convinced and he pushed his food around on his plate morosely the rest of the lunch period.

… … … … … … …

He felt awful. His head was throbbing and his throat ached. His nose wouldn't stop running, but he couldn't breathe through it.

What the hell kind of joke was that? He had never had a cold before and the mechanizations of a stuffed yet leaky nose were baffling him.

Spinning the combination on his locker, he felt the tell tale prickle behind his eyes. He clamped a gloved hand over his face, stifling the explosion and growling as he subtly wiped a tissue under his nose.

He refused to call in sick at work, but as the tickle in his throat grew worse he coughed lightly and began to have second thoughts. No one would want him hacking into their plates or sneezing in their drinks.

He couldn't help pouting slightly as he shoved his books into his bag and slammed his locker shut.

He turned around and came face to face with Will Stronghold. The shorter boy stood in front of him, nervous and fidgety.

Does he ever sit still?

"Um…Hey." Will gave a lopsided smile and lifted his hand in a small wave.

Warren glared at him darkly before shoving passed him, shoulder checking him ever so not gently.

"W-Warren!"

The pyro halted in his tracks when he heard his name spoken by the Stronghold boy. He turned around, towering over the smaller brunette.

"What …do you…want?"

Will shifted from foot to foot.

"I--er--wanted to say that…Well, I noticed that you're--"

"Spit it out or shut up!"

Will jumped, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about the extinguisher and I didn't mean to make you sick or anything and--"

"I'm not sick and I don't need your pity," Warren snarled.

"No, no! No pity. Not at all."

Warren narrowed his eyes but they widened again as he coughed harshly into his palm.

Will winced but tried to keep any form of sympathy off his face, fearing for his currently uncharred life.

Warren recovered himself, looking a bit chagrined as he glanced at Will.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

The flame thrower scowled, hefting his bag further up onto his shoulder before turning his back on Will, intending to walk away when Stronghold's voice reached him again.

"Honey!"

Warren stopped dead and spun around, stalking back up to the brunette, the expression on his face deadly. Will could feel the heat radiating off him.

"What did you just call me?"

Will swallowed.

"No, no! That's not what I meant! I was going to say--"

"You must really want to die, Stronghold, 'cause--"

"Honey and tea!"

Warren blinked, his confusion evident.

"What?"

"If you put honey in hot tea, it'll make your throat feel better. And if you breathe in the steam, your nose will clear up."

The pyrokinetic frowned in thought, his eyebrows drawing together as he studied the boy in front of him.

Will wondered if he should run, but he had a feeling that Warren was faster than him.

Before he could come up with another plan of escape, the pyro seemed to snap out of his musings and grunted, nodding once before heading down the hall way.

Will's entire body slumped in relief and he smiled, walking in the opposite direction.

… … … … … … …

When Warren got home, he felt twice as miserable than when he had left for school.

He put his things away and spread his homework out on the coffee table, flipping through the pages of his history book and scribbling down notes.

Half an hour later and no amount of sniffing could dislodge whatever it was that blocked his nose and his throat was sore from coughing.

His eyes darted to the kitchen but he pointedly ignored the stove as he continued to go through his homework.

After several agonizing minutes, he sighed heavily, tossing his pen onto the table and standing.

He pulled out a pot and filled it with water, flicking the stove on. He rummaged through the cabinets for a while before coming up triumphant.

Green tea.

Working at the Paper Lantern had so many advantages. He grinned.

He briefly wondered if he even had honey and was pleased to find some in the cupboard.

He squeezed enough out to coat the bottom of the mug. The water was boiling a moment later and he poured it into his cup, dropping in the tea bag and walking back into the living room.

He settled himself on the couch, idly swirling the tea bag by its string. He didn't need to wait for it to cool down. So why was he hesitating?

He scowled and brought the mug to his lips, taking a long pull of its contents. It was actually soothing.

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise and he continued to sip at the tea as he worked on his assignments. He breathed in the steam and sure enough, his nose began to prickle as it cleared. He inhaled deeply. He never thought that he'd be so grateful for such a small thing as being able to breathe through his nose.

His thoughts drifted to Will and he snorted, shaking his head as he sat back against the cushions, smiling ever so slightly.

"Idiot…"

End….perhaps.